Crimson Like My Blood
by The Useless Typewriter
Summary: Cass Upton isn't crazy. She may have voices in her head and may be able to bring them to life, but she isn't crazy. Getting into Beacon seemed easy, but Cass didn't expect to be torn between two girls that connected with both sides of her equally. When Team RUBY uncovers serious villains and their plot, Cass must protect her friends, and maybe even all of Remnant. OC Insert Story


**I know it seems kind of stupid to start another story when I just started my other one, but I got this idea today and I really wanted to write it. There's no guarantee this will become a story, but I wanted to try this out. You'll also notice there's a pairing for this story. That's only because I know where I want this to go if I do pursue it. Anyway, this is my first ever OC story, and I hope you all like it.**

 **This first chapter is short because it's the trailer, Crimson Trailer to be exact. There's not a lot of mentions to Remnant and hunters/huntresses, but that all comes in stride, I suppose. Anyway, let's get to the story.**

 **Disclaimer: RWBY is property to Rooster Teeth, and I only own my OC. If RWBY did belong to me, let's say there would be a lot more romance. I'm a sap.**

* * *

The classroom was dark enough that any non-faunus would be left tripping over their own feet. A young, light brown haired girl creeped through the hallways, clothed in nothing but leather slacks, a thin grey shirt, and a crimson jacket. If an onlooker were to pay close attention, they would notice the thin shaking of hands with every nervous step the girl took.

"Hello?" she called, voice echoing against the hallway. "Hello?" she tried again, with the same result. Continuing to creep through the hallway, she came across her first door. The door was brown and thick looking, but when she touched the doorknob it creaked open without any resistance. The girl took a moment to process what she was seeing.

A mirror stood in front of her, and she saw herself, hands tied behind her back with tears running down her face. A man stood behind her in the mirror, and her gave the girl a knowing smirk before bringing a blade down and ending the mirror replica. The girl gasped and quickly fled the room, hands shaking much more noticeably.

She was more hesitant when she reached the next door, unsure what she would see this time. But the fear of being stuck in the endless hall drove her to open the door. This time the room was empty, not a single soul, save herself. Taking one step, then two, into the room, she observed her surroundings. It was her childhood home. Toys laid around the edges of the room, and a baby blue carpet covered the floor. The wall had crude drawings on it, and the center of the room held an old baby's crib.

Approaching the crib, the girl searched for the blanket she had once held as a child. But instead of the blanket, she found a pool of blood at the bottom of the crib. "It was all your fault you know," a voice echoed behind the crimson clad girl. She spun around in a hurry, grabbing at the non-existent weapon at her side. There was nobody.

Taking a deep breath, she walked out of the room with as much confidence as she could muster. Strolling down the hallway, she kept avoiding any doors that would pop up. She didn't want to face another strange vision, or twisted memory. In avoiding her struggle, it ended up coming to her when a voice called out, "So the runt's lost, eh?" and another voice, "Ew, she probably doesn't even have a home."

This time, there were figures when the girl turned around, but they weren't welcoming. A large huntsman in training stood next to a dainty girl with a disgusted look on her face. These two were tormentors of the girl, teasing her everyday when they got the chance. "Can't hold her own against a fight, I bet." The boy didn't wait for a response, charging at the girl with a large hacksaw in his hands.

She reached for her twin blades, but found only sheaths. She pulled those out regardless and got ready to attempt a block. "Don't waste your time." The stuck up girl called. The boy slowed down and faced the green girl. "She's not good enough for you to beat down."

The boy shrugged, and another person cut in. "Yeah, don't beat her up." The three looked at the newcomer, or newcomers. There now stood a girl, the one who had called out, with a rifle and a high powered bayonet, and a boy with a sword and two wrist blades.

"I have a better idea," the boy said. The crimson clad girl smiled, knowing he had always stuck up for her. "Why don't we all beat her down," he whispered with a crazy smile. Terrified, the young girl sprinted away from the four, fearing for her life.

"Don't run away! We're just getting started," one of the girls yelled. Not looking back, the crimson clad girl continued to run, only falling flat when another appeared in front of her. It was the final person she remembered. The man had been her mentor, but also her worst critic. The tall, lean man stood with a perpetual kind smile on his face, but was not opposed to any form of violence. He had always been her favorite.

"You can't just run from your problems. Eventually, we'll catch up to you," he spoke, before swinging one of his weapons, a giant axe, down at her quivering form. Laughs echoed throughout the hallway, all belonging to five different people.

* * *

A gasp escaped the girls mouth as she sat up in her bed. She clutched her aching head, sweat covering her body. "Are you alright?" a voice asked her.

"Hey, give the girl some room, she needs to calm down."

"Oh she's fine, she's gotten this far, hmm."

"Shut up, everyone has their problems."

"It can't be that bad, it's never that bad. She'll recover."

The girl stood up bleary eyed, and shook her head out once again. The voices fell silent as she walked to the edge of the roof to look down on the city. It was cold, and she didn't have enough blankets to protect her from the night air.

She thought of Beacon Academy, a place where food was free, and beds were complimentary. Two more weeks, and she would be there. Two more weeks and she would have a place to call home. Hopefully.

Returning to her sleeping bag, she pulled her weapons closer to her side. Taking one last look at the empty rooftop, she closed her eyes, ready to return to her dreams. "Get some rest, kid," was the last thing she heard that night.

 **So, Crimson Trailer. I hope you all liked it. I know it's short, but that's because it's the trailer. My other OC's names have not been revealed yet, but I already know what they are. If any of you readers enjoyed the story, show your support so I know if I should continue. I was really nervous writing this, because I don't know how much of the fanbase likes OC stories. Whatever, thanks for reading, I hope I'll be back soon with chapter two. Hasta la Vista.**


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